


Chatterbox

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxious Keith (Voltron), Anxious Lance (Voltron), Big surprise, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Bowling Date, College, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, Gay, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Male Character, How Do I Tag, I Love You, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Its keith, Keith/Lance are Soulmates, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance thinks he doesnt have a soulmate, Laughter, Love at First Sight, M/M, Monthy Klance, Mute Keith (Voltron), Past Character Death, Please tell me if this is OOC, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, anywyas, bc i think too much and then my writing sucks, bowling, but he does, but hes not actually mute, im writing this to get out of my head tbh, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-12-25 14:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18263675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In a world where the first words your soulmate speaks to you are tattooed on your skin; Lance struggles with accepting his bare, unmarked wrists. Insecurity and doubt have plagued him for years, attached to him like a second layer of skin. It isn't until he meets a boy with bags under his eyes and a notepad in his hand that he allows himself to feel optimistic. Because if his soulmate can't speak then that would explain why he didn't have a soulmark, right?- discontinued, may one day come back to it





	1. first meeting

**Author's Note:**

> written from the monthy Klance April prompts by [monthyklance](https://monthlyklance.tumblr.com/) on tumblr
> 
> I really need to get out of my head when i'm writing bc i worry so much abt it being perfect from the very beginning that i just get so frustrated and disappointed and depressed with what i create that i dont get anything written at all. That said, i'm using these prompts as a way to get over that and won't be editing them too heavily, if at all; please tell me if there are any mistakes i've missed, if anyone seems OOC, or if you have other tips to help me with this problem.
> 
> I'm still planning on rewriting ch. 1 and updating my fic Joy. I hope to start that this month as well, as long as i'm able to stop editing everything i say before i say it ;;
> 
> quick thanks to my 4 beta readers (bc i'm That Anxious abt everything i write) ily :)

His mama said not having a soulmark made him special and unique; said it set him apart from the rest of the world, and allowed him the rare ability to be free. Lance thought it was a worse punishment than clearing out the wasps in his father’s shed. 

He still held out hope though, that the universe hadn’t completely turned on him. That only got harder as the years went on.

Most people who hadn’t met their soulmates wore bracelets to cover their soulmarks. When Lance started school his mama bought him a wrist cuff, just as she’d done for all her children before him; only his wasn’t to cover the words tattooed on his skin, but the lack thereof. He appreciated the gesture nonetheless, even more so as he grew older.

His family was kind and accepting about his blank wrists, going out of their way to be sensitive to the subject around him, to not boast or fawn over their marks or the people linked to them. It was kind; his family was kind. The other children at school were not kind.

Lance was shocked when his classmates weren’t immediately accepting of his lack of a soulmate, and it confused him when his peers began isolating him; freezing him out, ignoring him, lying about already having enough people to play four square when he could clearly see they only had three players. Like what the fuck, guys? He was super good at four square.

Middle and high school weren’t much better. Kids understood soulmarks more and were open with what their wrists said, fawned over the first words their soulmates would speak to them. Lance found refuge with Hunk and Pidge, two kids from his science class. They were just as supportive and accepting of him, quietly indulging his fantasies of having some other kind of soulmark that he just couldn’t see yet. 

Pidge met her soulmate their first day of high school, he’d moved to the neighborhood over the summer and rambled about how he wasn’t quite used to the change from his old school and needed some help with finding the cafeteria. Pidge didn’t say anything, letting Lance give the boy directions to the cafeteria and then his next three classes after that. She didn’t even mention he was her soulmate till a week later claiming that “I don’t really want to be tied to one person for my whole life. If I just never talk to him then he’ll never know I’m his soulmate. You guys and my family are enough, anyway.” 

She slipped up during an assembly junior year, grumbling “Watch it, fuckface,” when he’d bumped into their small group. He followed them around for the rest of high school after that. Lance doesn’t think he’s ever heard Pidge sigh and mutter that much.

Three weeks before their senior prom, Hunk met his soulmate. She was a pretty dark-skinned girl from another country. She spoke six different languages and got straight A’s. Lance honestly isn’t sure how they hadn’t run into her before then, she wasn’t new. Their first words to each other were “Did you say something to me?” And “Oh my god, you heard that?” Not that Hunk had said anything bad about her, just “Holy geez, guys. Thats the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Like ever.” And then, “Oh boy, is she coming over here? Do you think she heard me?” 

Lance probably would’ve been concerned if she _hadn’t_ heard him, she was standing right in front of them in the lunch line. 

Lance… still hasn’t met his soulmate. He’d always hoped, somewhere deep down that he would. That he was one of the rare 2% that just had a soulmark that manifested differently than the other 98% of society. But he was a sophomore in college now and it seemed the majority of his class had already met and settled into a comfortable relationship with their soulmates; the happy couples already beginning to plan their lives around one another.

And Lance worked at a bowling alley with twelve dollars and seven cents in his bank account and was the biggest virgin on the planet. Pidge told him so, saying five year old boys honked more women’s breasts than he did. Unfortunately, he couldn’t disagree.

It wasn’t all bad though, sure, Lance had the worst luck in history, not having a soulmate. But he’d gotten into his dream college with his two best friends, his mama was proud of him, and working at a bowling alley had its perks. Aside from helping him save for him impending student debt, he got discounts on games and food, and knew all the tricks to win on the arcade machines they had in the game room.

The only downside had to be handling strangers sweaty, stinky shoes. He used _so much_ hand sanitizer.

A stiff tapping on the counter pulled Lance from the game on his phone to the boy standing in front of him. The new levels on _Candy Crush_ must’ve been giving him a harder time than he thought they were if he didn’t even hear the guy walk up. “Hey man, welcome to Cosmic Bowling.” He said, an easy, customer friendly smile working its way onto his face.

The guy smiled thinly and gave a short nod. Cool. Straight to the point — no funny business.

“Cool, how many people bowling today? Just you?”

The guy shook his head, holding up two fingers.

“Nice. You paying for both?”

A nod.

“Awesome, that’s gonna be $34.40, you can just put your card in- yep just like that. Cool. Just need your shoes and your shoe size.”

The boy frowned down at his feet, holding up ten fingers when the beeping from the card reader started beeping.

“Ten?”

A nod.

“Cool, I’m an eleven.” Really, Lance? Like he cares.

Another nod, and maybe it was just him, but it seemed a little contemplative.

Lance smiled lightly, handing the guy his receipt. “You’re gonna be in lane five”

The boy nodded again.

Lance stifled a sigh. “Still gonna need your shoes, buddy.” He reminded, leaning his elbows on the countertop to wait for him to finish uniting his…mid-thigh boots? Who wore mid-thigh boots in July? Actually, no, who wore mid-thigh boots any day except Halloween?

The mop of dark hair popped back up, strained smile painted on his face. He seemed apologetic though. Sort of. He placed his shoes on the counter, sliding them across to Lance and- was that leather? Like, real leather? What the fuck, guy?

“Be right back!” He said, grabbing the shoes and making his way towards the back room. 

The dude was weird. Like, exceptionally weird. Maybe he was mute. Or deaf. Was that- was that a legitimate thing that could be happening? He knew some sign language, back when he was in middle school he’d watched youtube videos for hours learning the different signs; because he wouldn’t have a soulmark if his soulmate couldn’t talk. It was the only possible explanation. 

The only _logical_ explanation, anyways.

He brought the shoes back to the waiting boy, a large family having gathered behind him in Lance’s absence. They probably had expired coupons they’d yell at him for not being able to use. He really should’ve taken Nyma up on that break she’d offered him earlier.

“Number tens.” He said, handing the shoes off to him, and he seemed more than happy to have his feet off the carpet. Lance couldn’t blame him for that.

When he stood back up he held up five fingers, a question in his eyes.

“Yeah. Lane five.” The guy seemed relieved, nodding lightly with a small wave. The family behind him shuffled forward the second he turned his back and Lance shot them an apologetic smile, calling out a “Hey, wait!”

He turned, and Lance’s smile turned sheepish. This was dumb, wasn’t it? He was being dumb.

“Do you know sign language?”

He didn’t respond immediately, dark eyebrows bunching together while he looked Lance over. Finally, slowly, after an eternity pressed into five seconds, he nodded.

“Me too!” He signed back, unpracticed fingers fumbling to make the signs he barely remembered. 

And yeah, maybe seeing the boys face light up made him feel like it was the morning of the first snow, and maybe he ignored the family at the register a little longer than he should’ve to see the guy stumble through signing his own name and then a “Sorry, I’m still learning.” And maybe knowing his name was Keith made him a little happier than it would’ve made anyone else.


	2. touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ch. is still heavily unedited and i'm so grateful to my beta readers for understanding that i'm trying to edit as little as possible. I wrote most of this ch. in the car on the way to the airport & then on the plane & i hope its not terribly noticeable that i was actually falling asleep while writing the end ;;

Keith kept coming back. Not even to bowl, just to order nachos and lean against the front counter to talk to him in between customers. Lance thought it was worth the suspicious looks when Keith signed to him, “that guy still has shaving cream in his mustache” or “did you see that lady’s pants?” Or “that kid wiped a booger on his mom, should we tell her?” and Lance had to swallow his laughter, lips pressed tightly together, and avoid looking at Keith’s matching expression until the customer walked off to their assigned lane. 

“You weren’t here yesterday.” Keith signed to him when the two girls Lance had been serving walked off with their shoes.

“Sorry, sign that again slower, I didn’t catch it.” 

Keith rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, managing to make his repeated “you weren’t here yesterday,” seem exasperated.

“Oh! Yeah, I had yesterday off.” Lance answered, slumping forwards onto the cash register. Keith nodded slowly, eyes dropping to pick through his nachos. “But I’ll get you my schedule so you’d don’t come in when I’m not here again.” He promised. Keith smiled and Lance felt his own dopey imitation of it stretch across his face.

“Okay! I’m going with Shiro to the movies later tonight. He wants to see Captain Marvel again to confirm some of his theories for Endgame before he publishes his theory to his blog. It’s coming along really nice, I think. I can send you a link to it if you want?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

It’d taken three days of Lance stumbling over his own fingers, trying to remember the signs for words he’d learned eight years ago from youtube videos he used to watch during math class in 7th grade for Keith to tell him he wasn’t deaf. “I’m not deaf,” he’d signed, “It’s easier if you just talk to me like normal, I don’t have much practice reading sign language and you suck bad enough that I don’t even think a translator would understand what you’re trying to say.” And Lance wasn’t going to argue with that.

He’d had to brush up on a lot of (all of) his sign language reading skills when he realized Keith was going to keep coming back to visit him. He spent the better part of his time off work and out of classes watching videos and reading sign language books from the library so he could understand the signs Keith used so he didn’t have to ask him to finger spell or write down the word he’d said. Not that he thought Keith minded, he was accommodating and just seemed happy that someone outside his brother and his soulmate could talk to him without sliding a piece of paper back and forth across a table. Lance just didn’t like putting Keith out because of his own lack of knowledge.

“Cool! He’s really proud of himself, he’s been working on it since Marvel’s The Avengers, he’s gained a pretty big following from it too. You’d probably like him, actually, he’s-“

“Excuse me?” Lance turned towards the woman standing in front of him; his smile slipping when he saw Keith frown and let his hands fall limp in his peripheral. 

“Yes ma’am?”

The woman scoffed, “Well, first of all, these shoes don’t fit.” She bitched, dropping the bowling shoes onto the counter hard enough to make both Lance and Keith jump. “Secondly, I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes and no one has come to take my and my sons orders. Honestly, the service here is absolutely terrible. Where’s your manager?” 

“She’s in her office I can-“

“And maybe if you didn’t spend your entire shift talking to _him_ you’d be able to focus on your paying customers. God forgive me, but I swear it’s like being deaf is fucking contagious between you two. I’d been standing here for three minutes before you acknowledged me. _Three minutes._ It’s unacceptable. I want to speak to your manager.” 

Lance smiled shakily, making his way out from behind the counter. “Okay, I’ll go get my manager for you. Keith- Keith come with me.” He said, reaching a hand out to him. To where he should’ve been. To where he always was. “Keith?” He asked, turning around when he didn’t place his hand in Lances.

Keith’s nachos (which were mostly untouched and probably cold by now) were left abandoned on the counter. Lance scanned the small crowd of people leading towards the exit to see Keith shoving and elbowing his way through them to get to the exit. He couldn’t say he blamed him.

But what if he didn’t come back. He didn’t have Keith’s number, or his address, or any of his social media. He didn’t know where exactly Keith worked, even though he complained about the customers all the time. He knew his favorite animal though, and the color of all his socks, and the names of every single pet he’d ever had, and how many times he’d cut himself trying to juggle knives. He knew the name of Keith’s only boyfriend, and every detail of his brothers upcoming wedding. He knew Keith wanted to be a musician when he graduated because writing music was easier than saying words, he had half his playlist memorized, and he knew when Keith was anxious because his fingers tapped restlessly against the counter and shook when they didn’t. 

But he didn’t know his fucking phone number.

“Ke- Keith!” Lance yelled after him, feet pushing him forward before he thought about moving them himself. He made it through the small rush of people, his hand grabbing onto Keith’s wrist just as he was pushing open the door.

“Wait. I- Please wait. I’m sorry, Keith… God, I’m so sorry.” He said, tugging lightly at his wrist until he turned around, head bowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “we can go back to the break room, I’ll just call my boss and she’ll handle it, okay?” 

Keith nodded slowly, stepping forward to rest his forehead against Lance’s chest. 

“You okay?” Lance asked softly, arms coming to wrap around Keith. He shook his head and Lance felt the motion against his chest. “Okay,” he said, “let’s go.” He took a step back hands sliding down Keith’s arms to rest in his hands. 

Keith shook his head again, tugging on Lance’s hand earnestly before lifting his glossy eyes up to him, sparkling despite the clear shine over them. Keith sighed after a second, lifting their joined hands and all but shoving them in Lance’s face.

And Lance felt like he really should’ve noticed sooner. “I… what..?” He murmured quietly, inspecting their hands with wide eyes. They were glowing, a vibrant, shining purple peeking out from in-between their fingers. “Keith- I…” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Keith shook his head, gripping tighter to Lance’s hands, and pulling them closer to himself. 

It was captivating, the pulsing glow emanating from their hands seemed to stop time down; those passing by seemed to slow, curious, prying eyes were drawn to their clasped hands like magnets. It made Lance feel like a spectacle, like something to be watched and judged rather than a normal person finding their… soulmate.

Is that what this was? His missing soulmark? The soulmate he wasn’t supposed to have?

“Lets… Lets go to the break room. Please.” Lance said, leading Keith away from the openness of the lobby once he’d dropped one of their hands.

“Keith,” Lance said, closing the door to the break room. “I don’t… What’s happening?” Keith squeezed his hand, fingers so tight around his own that it was crushing. “Keith, _please_.” He begged, voice cracking.

He took a shaky breath, their fingers slipping from each others, the purple glow of their skin dimming and dimming until there was none of it left. “You said my words. That first day. It’s why I kept coming back.” Keith signed slowly, his eyes focused on his shaking fingers rather than on Lance.

“Oh”

Keith frowned, his unsteady fingers fumbling over words he’d known for years. “I-I didn’t think I was requited. You didn’t resp- respond to the first thing I signed. I figured if I kept coming back maybe something would click. I-I didn’t really know what to do-“

“Keith.” Lance grabbed hold of his hands, holding them steadily to stop his trembling. “I never had a soulmark. I didn’t think I had a soulmate. This- It’s all new to me. I’d hoped, but I never really thought I was lucky enough to have a soulmate even without a soulmark, This is… Its-“

“Weird.” Keith supplied, mouthing the word.

“Yeah, Weird.” Lance agreed, pulling Keith in towards his chest. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

Keith nodded, and Lance thought he could feel him smile through his shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments, criticism, and love are greatly appreciated ❤️


	3. first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm currently on vacation in Morocco & am trying to juggle school work and this fic along with being out exploring, seeing the . country & having way too many dinners with family. Doing my best to keep up with the schedule i set for myself for this fic :) thank you for all your lovely comments, it means so much to me that you're all enjoying this story <3 (also currently posting this with 0 wifi bc the entire hotel turned off??? lmao idk bless hotspots)

The early morning shifts on Monday’s were always slow; it’s why Lance took them. That and because now it worked better with Keith’s changing school schedule. Apparently his philosophy professor was arrested for the kidnapping of her own son, Lotor, and was looking at a life sentence. And honestly? Good riddance.

Anyways, with his new professor he had a new time for that class, and where it was previously held during Monday mornings (another sin to add to never-ending list of crimes) it was now held during Thursday afternoons. Thank you, Professor Alfor; because Lance very much enjoyed not spending Monday mornings alone anymore. 

And Lance may have been dozing, because he was sure he would’ve noticed a wet, barely put together Keith running towards him with his arm held up in the air otherwise. There was no possible other explanation, he wasn’t that blind.

He groaned, lifting his head from where it was leaned against the register to see Keith clearly. And if the excessive tapping on his shoulder to get his attention wasn’t enough to wake him up, the rapid-fire hand motions were. 

“Woahwoahwoahwoah slow down. I can’t read that fast.” Lance said, placing his hand on top of Keith’s to stop them.

He huffed, pulling them away to start again slower, this time. “I said: Remember yesterday when our hands… glowed? Or whatever?”

“Literally how could I forget that?”

“Yeah. Well I was taking a shower this morning-“

“That’s good.”

Keith sighed, “I was taking a shower this morning and I noticed this.” He finished, thrusting his left hand out for Lance to see.

“…What am I looking at?” 

Keith frowned, signing “this,” and pointing to a small black tattoo wrapping around his wrist, just under the words “Hey man, welcome to Cosmic Bowling”.

“Oh…” Lance answered, looking away from Keith’s wrist and back to his eyes. Has he ever mentioned how beautiful Keith’s eyes were? Well they are. So keep that noted. “Nice tat.”

Keith rolled his eyes, pulling his hand back to sign “No. I didn’t have this yesterday-“

“Yeah, I know. It looks cool. Why are you being so weird about this?”

“No. I didn’t have this yesterday and I never went and got a tattoo done. It just showed up and I noticed it in the shower.” He explained.

Lance hummed, eyes lazy with sleep. “That’s nice, Keith.”

He groaned, “you’re fucking zero help. Wake up.” He said, pinching Lance’s cheek.

“Owww, stop that,” He whined, slapping Keith’s hand away.

“Then listen.”

“-kay, listening.” He answered, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand.

“Good. Because I think it has something to do with us glowing yesterday. I mean, I was thinking about it on my way over here and I don’t think it could’ve been anything else. It’s not like someone would break into my house and give me a tattoo; I think I’d feel that anyways, honestly. I guess maybe it’s some kind of soulmate link- kind of way to say ‘hey you’re soulmates! Here’s proof!’ Cause I can’t think of anything else; I came here to see if you had any ideas on it beca- Seriously?” Keith huffed, poking Lance harshly on the shoulder. “You’re not even looking at me.” 

Lance shook his head slowly, rolling his right sleeve up to his elbow, exposing the matching black band wrapped around his own wrist. “No, I was listening. Mostly. For most of it. I just- I just- What are you doing?” Keith answered with a flippant wave of his hand, tugging Lance’s arm closer to him.

His eyes were wide, lips parted and soft- probably soft. Lance didn’t actually know if they were soft. They looked soft. Stop looking. He pulled his eyes away, looking down at his wrist where Keith’s fingers were hovering just over the dark black line. And that made him feel a few different kinds of things.

“You can-“ He cleared his throat, “you can touch it if you want.” Don’t make an innuendo, don’t make an innuendo, don’t make an innuen-

Keith looked up at him, a small, shaky smile making its way onto his face. He nodded slowly, featherlight fingertips tracing over his skin. Lance thought they inhaled together, Keith pulling his hand back so quickly he almost thought the soft glow that had been emanating from the new tattoo had burned him. 

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened! Are you okay?” He signed quickly, eyes wide with worry.

“I’m fine, Keith,” he said softly, grabbing Keith’s left hand from the air and pressing two of his own fingers of the black line under his own words. “See?”

Keith nodded, a bright smile lighting up his face along with the purple on his wrist.

“Okay, so you have to be quiet because we’re not really supposed to be here.” Lance whispered, pushing the back door to the bowling alley open.

Keith tapped lightly on his shoulder to get his attention before signing “then why are we?” 

Lance scoffed, “Because this is the best date place.” 

A pause. “This is a date?”

Keith and Lance stared at each other, neither one of them moving. Lance didn’t think he was breathing. “I mean… If- if that’s okay with you. I thought I-“

“You did. You said it was a date, I mean. I just thought-“ he shook his head, “I just thought you meant as friends or something.”

Lance stared at him blankly. “We’re literally soulmates, as far as I’m concerned.”

Keith shrugged, pulling the door closed behind them. “I didn’t know if you thought it was platonic or not.”

“Do you think it’s platonic?” He asked.

“I-“ Keith hesitated and Lance felt his heart rate pick up. As far as he’d experienced, hesitation was never a good sign. If any of those people he’d asked out were anything to go by, that is. He was about to open his mouth to try and backtrack when Keith lifted his hand and signed a tentative ‘no’. 

“Oh thank god.” Lance breathed, “because I kinda set up a table for us that’s extremely not-platonic.” Keith smiled brightly, a small huff of happily exasperated air escaping him.

“So, this is our table.” Lance said, showing off the nicely decorated metal table. The table was covered in a white tablecloth with roses and candles arranged on top made the table stick out like a sore thumb. Not that Lance minded, it was just the two of them. He did owe Hunk like, two-hundred life favors for preparing their dinner for him on such short notice. 

“Nice table, but I want to beat your scrawny ass in bowling before we eat.” 

“Scrawny?! Keith, my man, my buddy, my soulmate.” Lance appealed to him, reaching out to grab his hand. “My ass is not ‘scrawny’” 

“I have yet to see otherwise.”

“WELL, allow me to show you.” Lance countered smugly.

Keith won 207 to Lance’s 186. Show off.

“You forget that my brothers in a bowling league.” Keith explained over dinner, picking through the arrangement of fruit squares.

Lance snorted, “how could I forget? Your brother is such a fuckin’ nerd.”

Keith nodded in agreement, smiling widely.

“Is the food okay? Hunk texted me earlier asking if you liked it.”

Keith looked up from his plate, cheeks stretched with fruit squares and gave a thumbs up.

Lance’s laugh was so contagious Keith had to spit out his mouthful before he choked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments, criticism, and love are greatly appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> comments, criticism, and love are greatly appreciated <3


End file.
